


Those Nights

by LadyofAvalon



Category: Provost's Dog - Tamora Pierce
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-09
Updated: 2012-06-09
Packaged: 2017-11-07 08:27:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/428957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyofAvalon/pseuds/LadyofAvalon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rosto was the last one left now, but he still remembered the days when they were young - the best days of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those Nights

**Author's Note:**

> This was heavily inspired by the song Those Nights by Skillet.

The Dogs' burial ground was a cold place, particularly for the man who stood before a granite headstone at the far end. In the late hours of the night, no one cared who he was. His grey-shot white-blond hair was pulled back in a horsetail, his dark brown eyes stared sadly at the flecked stone that shone in the moonlight. He hated what it said, how much it hurt.

Over thirty years had passed since the day he had come to Corus. They had gone far too fast in his opinion. It seemed like just yesterday that he had been twenty-two and flirting with the pretty Puppy who lived in his boarding house. Now he was in his early fifties and about to retire from the Rogue. He was tired, and rightly so. He had held the throne for almost the whole time, a particularly long time for the Rogue.

In all honesty, he didn't really want the throne anymore. He'd seen his friends pass away one by one. First had been Phelan when a brawl had broken out in the Dove and a challenger had thrown a knife at Rosto before he had officially challenged the Rogue. Phelan had stepped in front of it, saving Rosto's life, but losing his own in the process. Rosto hadn't forgiven him for that for years after the event.

Then Kora had died because she had fallen ill of some heart disease when she was carrying her third child with Ersken. She had passed away soon after giving birth, leaving Ersken heartbroken. That had been a blow to everyone, not just Ersken – everyone had expected her to pull through from what the healer said.

An interval of about fifteen years had passed before Ersken had been killed on duty. It had only been a matter of time at that point. Everyone around him knew that part of him had died with Kora all those years before. It had saddened them all greatly.

Aniki had been the next one. She had died peacefully in her sleep the year before. Then it had just been him and Beka. Now he was alone. Beka had also died on duty, just like a Dog. Murdered by a Rat who hated the Rogue, a Rat who thought the best way to hurt the Rogue was to kill his best friend.

Rosto had never thought that he would be the last one alive. He had always thought that being the Rogue would kill him long before any of the others. Yet somehow, he was the last of them. The fact that he was the only one left hurt him for some reason. This wasn't how it was supposed to end…

Slowly, Rosto sank to his knees in front of the gravestone, tears in his eyes.

"Why didn't you choose me, Beka? I loved you. I loved you more than my own life. Why couldn't you see that?" He whispered into the silent darkness.

* * *

_Approximately twenty years previously_

When Rosto walked downstairs in the middle of the night for something to drink, he found Beka sitting in the dark at a table in the kitchen. When he lit several candles in the room and proceeded to get out a cup and fill it with water. He glanced at Beka over his shoulder as he pulled other things from the cabinet - a plate, crackers, and a small wheel of cheese.

A few moments later, he seated himself across from Beka, setting the plate between them. For a moment, he just looked at her before he spoke up.

"Can't sleep?" Her response was a nod. "Me neither," he said, flashing a roguish grin at her. Beka shook her head at him, but did not utter a word. "Do you want to talk about it?" Rosto asked. Beka sighed.

"It's nothin', Rosto. You don' have to worry 'bout me," she said quietly. From her voice, he could tell that there was indeed wrong. She sounded like she was about to cry.

"Beka, you can't just keep it all pent up. You'll make yourself sick if you do that. You can tell me anything. I'm your friend, and nothing can change that," he paused, making her look into his eyes. "No matter what you say, no matter how many times you push me away, I will _always_ be your friend. As long as I have anything to say about it, you won't ever be without someone to turn to."

Even with all of that said, and Beka blushing profusely, he knew that what he had tried to say hadn't made it through. Still, the words hung in the air for him. _I love you, Beka._

"Okay," she said, "I'll tell you." Rosto smiled reassuringly at her, pushing the plate in her direction after taking one of the crackers and sticking it in his mouth. She looked at it, but didn't take one. Instead, she stared at the table. "I don't know why it is, but I feel like I'm lost. I love being a Dog, but there's something missing. I feel like I'm adrift, and I don't know why…" Beka looked up at him anxiously.

"I know what you mean, Beka," he told her. He knew exactly what she meant – he'd felt that feeling before, particularly after every time he'd flirted with her and she'd pushed him away. Somehow, he'd borne it silently, even after he and Aniki had gone their separate ways.

"I don't even know what to think anymore. There's another Dog at Jane Street who's professing his love for me. I can't even think of him as anything more than a fellow Dog, but here he is every night when I'm leaving after Watch, always asking if he can walk me home. I don't know what to do, Rosto. I do want a family and children of my own, but I'm not ready for that. I can't get him to stop…" She rested her head in her hands, looking down at the table once more.

"There's an easy way to stop him, Beka. I can either come down to the Kennel and tell him to back off or face the Rogue's wrath, or you could go with me, and you can then truthfully tell him that you're taken," Rosto told her with the utmost sincerity.

Beka let out a nervous giggle. Rosto grinned roguishly again, leaning back in his chair.

"Thank you for offering, Rosto, but no. We can't be together and you know it," she told him. Rosto brushed crumbs off the plain white shirt he'd thrown on before coming downstairs. It was tucked into his breeches instead of buttoned, just because it was easier. He looked up at her, his sable eyes full of unspoken affection.

"That doesn't stop me from wanting it, love."

"I'm not your love, Rosto. You're the Rogue and I'm a Dog. It can never be. As much as I think I'd like it, it's not going to happen," she told him. He just kept grinning at her.

"There is a chance, then. I'm content with friendship until you change your mind." Beka rolled her eyes.

"Then you'll be content with that for good. Never a rusher, Rosto. Never a rusher." Rosto raised an eyebrow.

"You owe me, Beka. Yates Noll, remember? Nothing short of murder. Would it kill you to give me a chance?" He asked. He saw her whole body stiffen as if he had physically struck her. Meeting her eyes, Rosto could see how torn she was. After a long silence, Beka sighed.

"Alright. You can have your chance, but if I change my mind, then we're agreed that there's no obligation to continue that relationship, and we'll go back to just being friends?" She asked. Rosto's grin brightened.

"Agreed. I'll make you a deal, Beka. If you'll handfast with me, then at the end of the year and a day, you can make your choice based on what you feel then. If you don't want to stay with me, then I'll let you go and will not make any more attempts for your affection. If you do, you have to marry me. Is that acceptable?" Beka paused for a second, thinking.

"If you keep your half, then so be it."

"On my honor," he said. Beka stifled a giggle. "That isn't funny. I do have some honor, you know," he told her with a scowl.

"I didna say I doubted it," she replied, trying to prevent her laughter from escaping. He gave her a disbelieving look.

"Fine. Have it your way. I swear it on my own life. If you choose to end it, I promise that I will let you, and I won't make any more advances. We'll just be friends. Cross my crooked heart," Rosto said, making the sign against evil over his heart. "Now you have to seal it with a kiss, Beka," he told her. When she nodded, he pulled her close, praying with all his heart that she would choose him at the end…

* * *

_Just over one year later_

Once again in the kitchen, this time it was Rosto's turn to seem downtrodden. He just didn't understand it. It didn't make sense. After the whole year of being handfast, and seeming to be extremely happy, Beka had come to him with her final decision. She was done with the romance. She did not want it anymore.

The part that didn't make sense to Rosto was that she had seemed like she was content to live that way, to continue down the path they'd started, and to become his wife permanently.

Despite all that had happened, from the Lower City discovering their relationship to her unexpected pregnancy two months into their handfasting, she had still ended it. No reason, no explanation, nothing. She had just told him on the last day that she wanted to be released from the bargain, as he had agreed to do if she so chose it.

Their son was safe in the hands of the Lord Provost, and would be well cared for. Though he didn't like it, Rosto was content with that. He knew in his heart that the child was better off there for the time being, instead of being in the Lower City as the son of a Dog and the Rogue. Still, he had wanted a hand in raising his son.

More importantly, he had wanted everything to stay the same, to be with Beka for the rest of his life. He would keep his promise to her, in spite of all of that. Rosto was a man of his word, no matter how hard he wanted to go against it.

"Are you alright?" A voice cut into his thoughts. He looked up to see Beka standing in the doorway to the kitchens, wearing a robe over her nightdress. Her blue eyes were wide with concern as she watched him.

"No." He slowly looked away, back at the table.

"Oh. Do you want to talk about it?" Beka asked. Rosto shook his head.

"There's nothing to talk about," he said softly. He sighed and continued to stare at the table.

"Rosto, you told me once that if I kept it bottled up inside, I would make myself sick. You need to let it out," she told him. He looked up at her, his eyes the inferno of emotion he felt inside.

"This is what's wrong: I'm in love with the Terrier and she's ended it. I made a promise to her that I would let her do that at the end of our handfasting. I can't bring myself to break that promise, despite the pain it's begun to cause me. I've rarely regretted anything in my life, but of the few things I have, this is by far the worst. If you won't be mine, Beka, can we at least be friends? _Good_ friends?" He asked. When she nodded, he continued. "Best friends?" Beka nodded again.

"I'm sorry that I'm causing you this pain, Rosto, but it had to be done. We never would have worked out in a long-term relationship. I will gladly be your best friend as long as the friendship remains platonic." Rosto watched her, then nodded his head solemnly.

"May I have one last kiss before it's completely over, Beka?" He asked. A grin appeared on her face, enough to tell him her answer.

* * *

A silent droplet slipped down Rosto's face as memories filled his mind. It wasn't fair, not at all. First, he'd lost his chance at Beka being his forever, then he had lost her all this time later.

He brushed the tear away, refusing to cry any more. As much as he hated what had happened, both between him and Beka, and her death, he had to accept it. He didn't have a choice. In his heart, Rosto still loved her, even after twenty years of settling with being her best friend.

Somehow, he even thought that those nights that they'd had talks like those, those nights were the ones that kept him aware of life. The nights where they would sit up and talk about nothing were some of the best he could remember. Some of them had been exactly what he needed.

Carefully, he reached out and ran a finger over the cold stone, remembering their time together. It all hurt so much. He already missed her presence horribly.

"I still love you, Beka. I don't think I'll ever stop…"


End file.
